Grand Marais, Part 2

Day Three:  We had big plans for day three, but rain and muddy road/trail conditions made us reassess.   The main road through Pictured Rocks is paved (H58), but some of the roads to trailheads are not.  The Visitors Center warned us not to try the unpaved road to Little Beaver Lake trailhead.  It was not in great condition, and she did not recommend it for our low clearance wheelchair van.   She thought we could make the Chapel Falls trailhead if it wasn’t actively raining.  As we started out, drizzle and fog greeted us.


We decided to drive the length of H58 and check out some of the roadside scenery, along with the City of Munising, Michigan.  There were many waterfalls:


In Munising we stopped at a craft beer bar that called itself a brewpub. Lunch was pasties, an Upper Peninsula local food once served to miners.  It’s a semi-circle pastry filled with meat and vegetables.  I washed mine down with an “I’d Cry Over Spilt Milk Stout”, brewed by Pictured Rocks Brewing Company.  Julia had an Northeast-inspired IPA called “The Fallen” by the same brewer.  The beers were worthy.

That afternoon, the weather still wasn’t cooperating, so we headed back to Grand Marais and spent the afternoon reading our books.  We made a repeat visit to the Grand Marais Tavern for dinner and turned in early.  The weather forecast was for better weather on the next day.

Day Four:  This turned out to be a huge day in some good ways and bad ways.
We got up early, ate breakfast and drove to the Chapel Falls Trailhead.  The five mile unpaved road was wet and rutted.  Potholes were many. I wished for my Nissan pickup with 4 wheel drive, but the Sienna made it slowly through.
The trail started off dry, and Chapel Falls was beautiful.  The trail soon became more difficult.

The closer we hiked to Lake Superior, the wetter the trail became.  It seemed like we were hiking in a creek at times.    Eventually, we prevailed and came out at Chapel Beach.  Here, there is an amazing tree that was still growing after the arch supporting its root structure fell away.  Notice the roots stretching from left to right to the soil on the other side of the fallen arch, still nourishing the tree.

Between Chapel Beach and Mosquito Beach, we hiked high above the shoreline on bluffs eroding into the lake.  Mosquito Beach was more rock than beach, and there were few mosquitoes (a pleasant surprise).

The day became warmer as we hiked from Mosquito Beach to Mosquito Falls, and the mosquitoes did begin to arrive.  A short hike up to the parking lot, and our ten-mile circle route was completed. 

The day was not over.  For the evening, we scheduled a sunset boat ride on Pictured Rocks Cruises.  That post, which includes an unexpected adventure home, will be detailed in Part 3.

Grand Marais, Michigan

Last week, after dropping Justin off at Easter Seals camp, Julia and I drove the Toyota Sienna wheelchair van  to Grand Marais, Michigan, where Julia had booked a small cottage for us to stay. We elected to take the van because to save time and for its better gas mileage.  In retrospect, because of its low ground clearance and importance to my son for transportation, we should have chosen more wisely (more on that later).

Grand Marais is a small town (population 200) on the Upper Peninsula that is the eastern gateway to the Pictured Rocks National Seashore.  The town is compact enough to walk everywhere.  Services are limited, but we found nearly everything needed:  local brewpub, grocery store, restaurants, and hardware store (more on that later).

Sunday night, we were exhausted after a long day of driving and preparation for Justin’s week and our own.  Summers are definitely cooler here than in south central Wisconsin; our first task was to turn on the heat.  Temperatures were bottomed out in the low 40’s.

Our goal for the week was to hike as many trails as we could, meander up and down the long beaches to pick up interesting rocks (agates are common here), and spend the evenings enjoying some good local food and drink.

Day Two: After a good night’s sleep, we walked over to the local brewpub where breakfast was served.  Julia had some pancakes.  I ordered Eggs Benedict  (oops, they were out of muffins, so substituted a bagel).  I was skeptical, and the Hollandaise sauce almost certainly came from a jar.  When you are hungry, it’s easy to overlook imperfection.  We looked over the beers on the list but did not order one for breakfast!

After breakfast, we picked up some groceries so we could prepare future breakfasts in the cottage.  The grocery store in town has limited offerings.  We did find some really good thick sliced bacon, along with eggs, butter, veggies, and hearty whole wheat bread for toast.
Then we headed for the beach.

After walking about three miles on Grand Marais’  beaches and fishing pier, we drove to Sable Falls and then to Visitors Center.  Sable Falls was amazing, but the photos that I took do not capture the tremendous surging power of the current.

We received some good advice and suggestions for day hikes from the Parks Service employee at the Visitors Center.  That afternoon, we hiked  Miner’s Beach and Miner’s Castle, the Log Slide Trail, and the trail from Hurricane River to Au Sable Light Station. The trails were wet from earlier rains, and the last hike to the Light Station brought out the stable flies (which are present on warm, humid days (for the U.P, 70 degrees).  Yes, stable flies bite, although not through fleece.

Tired and a bit grossed out by the cloud of flies following us, we jumped in the car and drove back to town.  We enjoyed a dinner of whitefish and local beers at the Grand Marais Tavern and caught up with the news on the free wifi.  I had a Widowmaker Black Ale from Keweenaw Brewing Company.  Julia had a UPA from Upper Hand Brewery–which turned out to be one of our favorites.    UPA is an American Pale Ale with a nice golden color and well-balanced malt to Mosaic hops.

After a short walk to the beach after dinner, we called an end to Day Two.

Coffee Grinders and Travel

There are a number of fundamental truths about coffee.  One is “garbage in, garbage out.”  If  you start with crappy beans, it won’t matter how freshly roasted the beans are, nor will it matter what type of grinder is used.   Similarly, if you start with stale beans, grinding the beans doesn’t create fresh ground coffee.


How do you know that your coffee beans are fresh?  My rules of thumb, based upon twenty years of home roasting and five years of commercial roasting:  Raw coffee beans:  one to two years.  Beans with higher acidity (think brightness) tend to fade after a year  A low acid, big-bodied bean, like a traditional Sumatra, is good for a couple of years.

Roasted coffee beans:  one to two weeks.  Coffee is food, and taste will evolve over 14 days, but within acceptable limits.  Coffee beans are best used within a week after roasting.

Ground coffee:  Here, the rules vary, depending upon how fine the grind is (a fine grind is exposed to greater air surface area (oxidation).  In my coffee shop, I found that espresso needs to be “just ground.”  A few hours changes the extraction time.  A day can ruin espresso.  Coarser grinds are more forgiving.  Drip is generally acceptable for a weekend, and french press grind can go for 3-4 days.

Last week, we were headed out for five days to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  What would I do for grinding coffee?    Fortunately, I have the right tool for the job–a Zassenhaus Knee Grinder.

The knob to the left adjusts the grind from fine to coarse. The roasted beans are loaded into the compartment on the right.

The grinder is designed to be operated between the knees, while turning the handle in a circular motion.  When the beans have been processed, the grounds are collected in the drawer below.

In my opinion, Zassenhaus makes  the finest hand grinders in the world.  This one is vintage and acquired via Ebay years ago. The craftsmanship is incredible. No electricity required.

The Brew Hut

Our 16 foot Scamp now has a new name, courtesy of my wife Julia.  It shall be called the Brew Hut.  Last weekend, we hitched up the Brew Hut to the our Nissan Frontier and went on a two day adventure along the Mississippi River.

Day One:  

Our respite caregiver for our son Justin arrived at 9 a.m. on Friday morning.  Because our campsite wouldn’t be available until 3 p.m., we planned to hike most of this day at Wyalusing State Park, south of Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, where I had camped and hiked by myself earlier this year.

The two hour plus tow was my longest to-date, and there were some challenges.  The road, State Hwy 60, was curvy and hilly.  Plus, my newly installed driver’s side mirror extension extended the width of the truck, so that I needed to be more aware of the road’s center line. When we arrived at the state park, I couldn’t find a good place to park the truck/trailer.  All of the stalls that we saw were designed for a single vehicle.  No double vertical stalls.  We ended up driving down to the boat landing and parked in one of the truck/boat trailer stalls close to the Mississippi River.

Starting from the bottom of the bluffs, we hiked from the boat landing up the Sentinel Ridge Trail (1.6 miles), down the Old Immigrant Trail (2.6 miles), up the Old Wagon Trail (0.8 miles), and back down Sentinel Ridge (1.6 miles).

We were sweaty and tired, but the bugs were not as bad as we thought they might be.  From here, we continued south, eating a hearty lunch at a bar in Bagley, and towing the Brew Hut to Nelson Dewey State Park. At the top of the bluffs at the state park, we hiked several short trails (lots of mosquitoes), adding  another mile or so to the day’s total.  We then drove to the  Grant River Corp of Engineers (COE) Campground, just south of Potosi, Wisconsin.


Unhitching and setting up camp went smoothly.  We drove back into and stopped at a little winery to buy some wine, cheese, and crackers.   Back at the Brew Hut, we chowed down on our cheese, crackers and some strawberries we had purchased at a stand in Bagley.  It was hot, so we turned on the Brew Hut’s air conditioning system for the first time.  It worked fine, and cooled the trailer off to 72 degrees at the low setting.

We had been warned about the trains running close to the campground, day and night.  Julia and I both like the sound of trains, but have never spent the night so close to the tracks before.  When a train came through, the whistle rang loud and clear, and then the trailer and ground shook a bit  as the train roared past.  I slept ok; the air conditioner provided some white noise.  But a storm came through with lots of thunder and lightning.  Not the most restful night.

 Day Two:   

In the morning, I cooked pancakes (a Julia favorite) on the cast iron skillet inside the Brew Hut.  I brewed up some fresh roasted coffee with the cone filter and water just off-boil.

We did not discover any hiking trails near our campground, so we took off in the Nissan after breakfast for nearby Dubuque, Iowa, leaving the air conditioning on in the Brew Hut at the campground, so that it would be cool when we arrived back later.

In Dubuque, we found a hiking/biking trail along the Mississippi River between the casino and the industrial park. We walked about three miles round trip, and then drove a little further, finding a free parking spot a few blocks from downtown.  As we walked towards City Hall, we discovered a wonderful Saturday morning Farmer’s Market, spreading out several square blocks around the City Hall.  We walked up and down past the stalls, buying a few munchies and drinks here and there. During our stroll, we discovered a brew pub with a sour beer event beginning at 11 a.m.

As the Farmer’s market began winding down, we headed back to Jubeck New World Brewing for the special release of the barrel-aged Golden Sour, dry hopped with German Huell Melon Hops.

Julia mentioned to the brewer that I was a home brewer, and he immediately took me on a tour of the brew room next to the bar.  He was very cool, and it’s always fun to be around someone enthusiastic about his craft.  Some sour beers are over the top, but this sour was refreshing and delicious.

Feeling like we caught Dubuque on a really great day, we headed back across the bridge to our campground in Wisconsin.  That afternoon, we took it easy at the campground, watching the Mississippi River make its way south.

After using the campground showers, we drove into Potosi for a planned visit at the Potosi Brewery restaurant for dinner.  I had a Reuben sandwich and a Grapefruit Hefe beer, which is another wild/sour beer.  It was more sour than the Dubuque beer, but the wheat softened the overall taste.  I liked it, although I liked that morning’s beer better.

We had planned to stay for the scheduled music in the beer garden, but a passing rainstorm resulted in the event being canceled.  The rain stopped after a short time, but I guess it was too late to bring back the band.  By the time we arrived back at the campsite, the skies lightened, and the temperature dropped into the low 70’s–very pleasant and no air conditioning needed in the Brew Hut. In the cool night air, I slept like a baby–until the first train roared past.

On the next day, I fixed a quick egg scramble with asparagus, toast, and coffee.  The trip home was uneventful.

Test Drive

Yesterday, I hitched up the Scamp and drove 45 minutes to Astico County Park, a county park and campground in Dodge County, Wisconsin.   Many years ago, I served as a law clerk for Dodge County.  One of the judges liked to take me out for lunch every week or so.  One time we passed a wayside off Hwy 60, and the judge mentioned to me that there was a nice county park and campground across the Crawfish River from the wayside.

Twenty years later, I took him up on his recommendation.  The campground wasn’t far away, offered electric services, riverside camping, and reasonable fees at $27/night (including reservation fee).  While most of the nearby state parks were booked up, only about a third of the sites were occupied last night at Astico.   Here was the view of the Crawfish River from inside my Scamp.Towing the Scamp to the campground was not smooth.  Hwy 60 is in terrible condition.

I used to think our state roads were some of the best in the country; however, things have changed.  Hwy 60 between the I-90 and Arlington is particularly disgraceful.  I also noticed some trailer sway.  Upon taking measurements at the front and back of the trailer, I found out that I was not completely level.  After arriving at the campground, I  unhitched and drove to the local farm supply store in Watertown to swap my adjustable hitch ball mount for a ball mount with a more precise fit.

After picking up supplies in Watertown, I cooked up some Shrimp Scampi (of course) and had a glass of home-made Chardonnay.  Thoroughly stuffed, I took a perimeter walk around the campground and discovered trails leading to a mill and dam.  There was no access from my side of the river, so I found a trail that led to a bridge to the other side. From here, I was able to walk down below the dam.  

From below the dam, it was easier to follow the Hwy T and Hwy TT to Atisco Park than to backtrack. But then I found an even faster shortcut.  

I saw this cemetery as I passed through the campground earlier.  I just wasn’t sure how to get from the fenced cemetery to the campground.  Several of the graves were really old–people who had lived and died in the 1800’s. I tried to imagine what their lives were like.  Wisconsin didn’t become a state until 1848.  One person was born in 1824.  As I approached the campground, I contemplated climbing the fence.  Fortunately, just before I made that decision, I observed that some of the fence was damaged.  Walking through the gap was a better decision.

Time to buy some campfire wood.  Earlier, I picked up some store ads and an empty cardboard box, if needed, for fire starter.  As it turned out, I needed every bit to get the fire going.  The wood sizzled and hissed for about thirty minutes until the fire took off.  It was time to watch the river go by.

Around ten p.m., I tested out the television and antenna.  To my surprise, I was able to pick up a variety of free broadcast channels.  I found some evening news and watched a bit of Steven Colbert on the Late Show before falling asleep.  In the morning a few thunder showers with lightning passed through.  When the rain stopped, I successfully used the dump station to get rid of my gray and black water.  A successful test drive. More adventures ahead.

Date Night

I’ve spent the last few weeks making some minor repairs and mods to the Scamp.  One of the lights wasn’t working above the dinette.  That fix required drilling out four rivets, disassembling the upper cabinet to expose the wiring, removing the light, cleaning out the switch, and putting everything back into place.  I also switched all the interior lights to LED as an energy-saving measure.

Additionally, I added a propane tank so that I now have two 20 lb tanks with an automatic transfer valve for when a tank runs dry.  I confirmed that the water pump works, along with the water heater (which had a leak that needed to be fixed). Tomorrow night, I’m taking the Scamp on an overnight test trip.  In a few weeks, if all goes well, we will take the Scamp for a weekend trip along the Mississippi River.

Last night was date night.  Wisconsin gets only about a dozen or so perfect days each year.  One of those days was yesterday.  We took a walk around the state Capital in Madison, enjoyed a margarita and expensive but tasty tacos at the newly opened Canteen Restaurant off the square, and then walked down State Street to the Memorial Union, one of our favorite spots (and where we held our wedding reception many years ago).

When we were undergrads and then later when I attended law school, the Memorial Union was my refuge.  I studied on the couches on the second floor, and gazed out at the lake when I didn’t want to study anymore.  A lot has changed since then, but the views and the vibes are still spectacular.

Unfortunately, no one sang Neil Young at last night’s Open Mic, as in the good ol’ days.  Some of the rap songs reminded me of the sounds coming from megaphones on top of vehicles in Mexico during election time.  On the positive side, the beer choices on the Terrace are better now.  I enjoyed a Fantasy Factory IPA from Karben4 Brewing, as we watched dusk descend over Lake Mendota.

Close to Home

While other people sleep in on this Saturday morning, my body wakes with the sun and urges me up.  A few minutes after 6 a.m, Elvis the dog  and I hiked into town, up and down a few hills, and past a quiet Main Street.  The cafe was packed with old folks.  The more trendy coffee shop and cupcake shop were still empty, waiting for the upscale younger crowd to wander in.

Coming up the driveway, I noticed that the squirrel I accidentally hit yesterday afternoon was already gone.  Nature wastes nothing.  I felt bad about hitting the squirrel, although I have been at war with the long-tailed rodents for a few years.  I like to feed our wild birds, and the squirrels have been raiding my various feeders for a long time.  I have been known to take pot shots at the raiders with my one-shot pellet pistol.  I missed more than I hit, but I did manage to hit a few.

Recently, I purchased an overpriced squirrel guard for the bird feeder, which was simple but effective.  Since it worked, I guess it wasn’t overpriced.

Since installation, the squirrels have been content to eat the birds’ wasted seed on the ground, rather than climbing up the pole, lifting up the lid, and stuffing their greedy heads into the feeder itself  to eat like pigs at a trough.  I no longer feel animosity towards the grounded squirrels.

After arriving at home, I grabbed my bag of freshly roasted Mexican coffee beans.

Actually, the beans were baked, not roasted.  And that’s an important distinction.  Properly roasted beans undergo temperature changes from room temperature to over 400 degrees.  My heat gun crapped out on me during yesterday’s roasting session.  Beans that normally roast in 12-15 minutes took over 30 minutes with the dying heat gun.  Not a good thing.  Baked beans taste flat. Still, these fresh baked beans were still an improvement over anything that I could buy locally. And being the frugal guy that I am, I couldn’t throw away the baked beans!

There was a time when I would drink nothing but a ristretto (restricted espresso shot). Those days of purity are long past. Today, I opted for a simpler form of making coffee–a method that will serve me well when I begin travels with the Scamp.

Justin and I are taking it easy.  Julia is off in Nashville at a meeting.  She left me this cup from a previous meeting to remember her by–with a semi-famous Ben Franklin quote.